


It's a Smissmas Miracle

by cornpony



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: I AM SORRY, M/M, it's just fluff, this is very self-indulgent whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 22:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornpony/pseuds/cornpony
Summary: Sniper tries to work on his social awkwardness.  Scout's trying to help him out with that.  Also, Scout is not a good kisser.





	It's a Smissmas Miracle

Sniper used to spend every waking moment inside his camper, except for the times he was forced to leave it to go to work.It even got to the point where he’d do all his shopping in bulk, once a month, so he didn’t have to make weekly trips to the market.He went to the bookstore and bought titles at random, dozens at a time, so he wouldn’t be without reading material.His craft supplies—yarn, mostly—took up the bottom of his closet, threatening to topple out every time he opened it. 

Laundry was a bit of a problem, as he obviously couldn’t have a washer and dryer in his camper.There were several washers and dryers inside the base’s laundry room, but that involved actually setting foot in the place where the rest of his colleagues lived.It was a necessary evil.He did all his washing on Tuesdays at 3am; after much trial and error, he discovered he was most likely to be left alone then.

He should’ve known that someone from Fortress would notice his strange behaviors, his absences from team meetings, his general reclusiveness.After all, this was _Team_ Fortress, and Sniper wasn’t being much of a team player. 

He’d silently resented the intervention at first.Now, as he found himself growing more and more comfortable with the world and people around him, he began to find snippets of unexpected happiness in his life.

Dell, the team’s Engineer, was his therapist.They got together in the base’s garage for an hour every week.Engineer wasn’t that great of a counselor, seeing as all of his PhDs were for things like chemistry, physics, biology, and astronomy, but he was a good conversationalist.Sniper focused on Engineer’s smooth Southern drawl and the cadence of the man’s speech.It was loud, crisp, friendly.Sniper’s voice, on the other hand, was low and grumbly, and he was monotone by default.Each week, Engineer coached him on word emphasis and common small-talk scenarios.It was so simple for Sniper to understand, yet so difficult for him to actually _do._ It didn’t feel right coming out of his mouth.It sounded fake.Engineer assured him that he’d get used to it soon.

Though helpful, Engineer’s therapy sessions could only take Sniper so far.It was all fine and good to learn about socializing within a controlled environment, but if he ever wanted to get better, he knew he had to break out of his comfort zone. 

And Engineer knew the perfect person to help Sniper with that.

 

** **** **

 

“This one’s gonna be a little harder than last week.” Scout warned.

They were standing outside The Attic, a small department store that had recently opened in Teufort.Dangling from Scout’s hand was a plastic bag stamped with The Attic’s store logo.Sniper couldn’t tell what was in it, but judging by the size of it and the store it came from, he could guess that it was an article of clothing.

_Clothing…plastic bag…standing in front of a store…harder than last week…_

Sniper’s stomach dropped.He thought he knew what this was all about. 

“No,” Sniper groaned.

“Yes,” Scout said excitedly, opening up the bag and showing him a button-up shirt big enough for both of them to wear at once. 

“Wouldja look at that, I bought the wrong size,” Scout said in mock surprise.“Run in there and return it for me, huh?”

Sniper snatched the shirt from Scout’s hand and felt around for a sales tag.There wasn’t one.Sniper was not surprised.

“You’ve ripped the tag off this, haven’t you?” Sniper said, still halfheartedly pawing at the shirt, hoping he’d missed it somewhere.He hadn’t.

“Whoops,” Scout said with a shrug, “Guess I did.They’ll still take it back, though.Long as ya got the receipt.”

Sniper didn’t like the sound of that at all.He opened up the plastic sack and found it completely empty.He gave the shirt a good shake, in case the receipt had gotten stuck up in it somehow, but his efforts were fruitless.

“You…don’t have the receipt, do you,” Sniper said.

“Nope,” Scout said.“They’ll still take it back, though.I think.”

“There’s no tag on it and no receipt,” Sniper countered.“They’re not gonna give you your money back for this.”He held out the tagless, receiptless shirt for emphasis.It was yellow with palm leaves and pink flamingoes printed all over it.Sniper would’ve really liked it, actually, had it been in his size. 

“Yes they will, they’ll give you store credit,” Scout said.“And you get to spend that store credit on _anything ya want._ ”He reached up and gave Sniper a jovial clap on the shoulder.“My treat.”

“You’re so generous,” Sniper deadpanned, tossing the shirt back into the bag.“I’m going in there right now before I lose my nerve, I’ll—I’ll see you in a bit.”

Scout shouted more words of encouragement as Sniper headed through The Attic’s revolving doors, but Sniper hardly heard it.He was far too busy trying to write a script in his mind, one he could use to return the tagless, receiptless shirt.

 

** **** **

 

Scout’s face instantly brightened when they spotted Sniper coming through the revolving doors.He was carrying a sack, albeit a smaller one than he’d gone in with.

“You lived!” Scout exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air in celebration.“How’d it go?”

“I exchanged your stupid shirt,” Sniper said bitterly.“It took two store managers and a phone call to the owner of the shop, but I exchanged it.”

“A phone call?” Scout asked, grimacing.It was no secret that Sniper despised talking on the telephone.

“Yeah.Manager called the bloke who owns this place ’n’ handed the phone over to me.I had to explain, in _great_ detail, why I took the tags off the shirt when it was so obviously the wrong size, and why I didn’t have the receipt anymore.”

Scout sucked in air through his teeth.“Yikes.They really put you on the spot in there.”

“Yes they did,” Sniper said.He let out a relieved sigh.“But…”His voice dropped to a mumble.“I did it.”

“Ya did, man, ya really did,” Scout said, throwing his arms around Sniper’s midsection.Sniper had anticipated this reaction—Scout was a hugger when he got excited.As always, Sniper held his arms out at an awkward angle, unsure where to put them.

Scout kept the embrace short, detaching himself almost instantly.Maybe Scout couldn’t quell his urge to hug people, but he managed to limit their duration for Sniper’s sake.His eyes fell upon the new, smaller plastic sack.“What’d’ja pick out with your store credit?Let’s see it.”

Sniper opened up the bag and pulled out the same flamingo shirt he’d just returned, only now it was several sizes smaller.“I actually liked the shirt,” he admitted.“So I swapped it for one in my size.”

“I knew you’d like that horrible shirt,” Scout said proudly.

“Not very often I can find things in my size,” Sniper said.“They actually had a Large Tall in there.”

As soon as the sentence was out of his mouth, a sudden realization hit Sniper like a slap in the face. 

“Is that why you picked this place?” Sniper asked, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“I was in there yesterday and I noticed all the weird sizes they had,” Scout said.“Thought ya might like it.”

“And you knew I’d never go in a place like that unless I had to,” Sniper said.By now, he had to make a conscious effort to keep the corners of his mouth from betraying him.“Well played.”

“You wanna smile so bad,” Scout said teasingly, grinning up at him.“C’mon, do it just this once, you know you wanna.”

Sniper relented, allowing the tiniest of smiles to ghost his lips.“Now I know where to go if I need anymore… _horrible_ shirts.”

“See?” Scout said.“It was worth it, huh?”

Sniper peered down at his flamingo shirt once more, then tucked it back into the shopping bag.“Mm, I’m not a hundred percent sure on that.It was very embarrassing.”

The sun was just beginning to set in Teufort, bathing everything in smoldering golden light.Scout’s dishwater-blonde hair caught the dying light, making it look like liquid fire.At the sight of it, Sniper felt a not-so-subtle squirming in his gut.He had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

“I know I said this a million times already,” Scout said, “but it’ll get better the more you do it.I know it _feels_ embarrassin’, but it’s just a normal thing.You’ll get it.”

Sniper nodded slowly.“Think you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

That remark earned Scout a badly-suppressed grin from Sniper.“So.Did I pass today’s lesson?” Sniper asked.

“A-plus,” Scout declared.

Just then, a sudden thought crept to the forefront of Sniper’s mind.He had to act on it fast, or he’d be too nervous to actually go through with it.

“Hey,” Sniper said, trying and failing to keep his tone casual.“Do you, er…is…”

He was about to bail on the conversation and save himself any further embarrassment, but he noticed Scout’s head tilting ever-so-slightly and his brows twitching upward.Sniper had caught his interest.It was encouragement enough to soldier forward.

“D’you wanna grab a drink before we head back?” Sniper blurted, wincing at his own boldness.“At Grub Pub?The bar across from the…”He trailed off, unsure how to phrase the next bit.“The, er…”

“The sex shop,” Scout said, rescuing Sniper from any further awkwardness.

“The sex shop, yes,” Sniper nodded, thankful for Scout’s intervention.“That’s the one.Have you…been there before?”

“Yup,” Scout said, “they’re the only bar in town that’s actually got some decent food.”

“I didn’t think you were supposed to order food from a bar,” Sniper said.“Isn’t bar food usually disgusting?”

“Usually, yeah.That’s why Grub Pub’s so good,” Scout said.“Guess the food would _have_ to be half-decent for you to name your bar _Grub_ Pub, though, huh?”

Sniper thought about that for a moment.“That makes sense,” he said after a beat of contemplative silence.

“Have ya had dinner yet?” Scout asked him.

“I never eat before these assignments you give me,” Sniper said. _If I did, I’d vomit everywhere_ , he wanted to say, but thankfully thought better of it.

Scout grinned.“I figured.”

Sniper waited for Scout to continue, but the other man said nothing.This was not an uncommon occurrence—Scout often did this, trying to lead Sniper into talking more.It never failed to work, as Sniper would rather say something to fill the silence than draw out the quiet any longer.

“…Should we go?” Sniper asked.

“You buyin’?”

This was clearly an attempt at humor, since both of them had the same place of employment, and therefore knew exactly how much money was made between them.Either one of them could buy the whole bar if they wanted.

“I need to repay you for this horrible shirt,” Sniper said, giving the plastic bag a little shake.“Drinks’re on me.”

They were walking down the sidewalk now, their shadows stretching far behind them, the streetlights popping to life one by one.Insects chirred.Traffic droned by.

“You’re payin’ for dinner, too, right?” Scout asked.

“Of course.”

“Then count me in.”

 

** **** **

 

As the moon rose higher and higher in Teufort, the temperature outside plummeted.Scout, who’d grown up surviving the harsh winters of Boston, wasn’t much phased by it.Sniper, on the other hand, had grown up baking in the Australian sun, and didn’t hesitate to pop on a jacket once the temperature dropped below 65 degrees Fahrenheit.He tightened his scarf around his neck and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to salvage all the warmth he could.

Sniper stood in front of the garage’s potbelly stove, trying to steel himself for the frigid walk back to his camper.It was only a two-minute walk, but he knew it’d feel like an eternity.Now he wished he would’ve gotten one last drink at the bar to keep him warm—the ‘beer blanket’ effect, his dad used to call it. 

As it was, the two rum-and-Cokes he had at the bar were wearing thin.This was partly due to the obscene amount of food he’d eaten for dinner, which slowed his body’s absorption of alcohol.The food at the bar was not merely edible—it was delicious.He never would’ve expected to get a good burrito from a place like that. 

“Are ya really that cold?”

Scout had been standing next to him for a long time, though Sniper had pretended not to notice.He was surprised that it’d taken this long for Scout to break the silence between them.

“I’m miserable,” Sniper replied.

“It doesn’t really feel that cold out here to me,” Scout mused.“Guess I’m used to cold weather.”  


“We don’t get a lot of that in Australia.”

“Well yeah, but you’ve been living here for, what, eight years?”

“I know,” Sniper groaned.“Every year I hope I won’t freeze my arse off.”All this talk of cold weather was making him even colder.He shuffled closer to the potbelly stove.“I can never get used to it.”He gave a slight shake of his head.“Dunno why.”

“You would literally die if you had to spend a winter in Boston.”

“Snow a lot up there?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Nope,” Sniper grunted.“Couldn’t do it.”

“Didn’t think ya could,” Scout said, flashing Sniper a good-natured grin.“That’s how come I—“

For a moment Scout averted his gaze, a more serious expression darkening his face as he stared into the potbelly stove.Sniper suspected the man was struggling to come up with the words to say next, which wasn’t a thing that happened very often. 

“That’s how come I never invited you up to Boston,” Scout said.“Y’know, for Christmas?I know you always stay at the base for Christmas ever since…since your parents…passed.”

Sniper shucked up a shoulder.“I don’t mind it.Christmas is just another day to me, really.”

Scout looked affronted.“Aw, c’mon, nobody oughta be alone on Christmas,” he said.“If I didn’t think you’d freeze to death and have a really bad time, I’d _make_ you come with me next week.”

Not knowing how he should react to that statement, Sniper stayed quiet.The embers burning in the potbelly stove were suddenly very interesting to him.He stared into the fire, an unfamiliar emotion churning within him.

Scout sidestepped a little closer to him.“Really, though, you can think about it,” Scout said, his voice taking on a more serious tone.“Coming with me for Christmas, I mean.I’m leavin next Monday.There’s plenty’a time to get you a plane ticket and everything.Christmas at my Ma’s is like a huge deal.There’ll be so many people there, they won’t even notice I brought a friend.”

There was a millisecond’s pause between _a_ and _friend_ , suggesting Scout had hesitated in calling Sniper his _friend_.Then again, maybe he hadn’t done that—maybe Sniper was overthinking things.It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’ll be all right by myself,” Sniper assured him.“I’m not much of a city person, anyhow.”

“I know you’re not,” Scout said.Somehow he’d managed to take a tiny step forward again without Sniper noticing; now they were merely inches apart.“Just…I worry about ya.”A subtle smile crept across Scout’s face.His gaze softened.“That’s all.”

That unfamiliar emotion in Sniper’s gut was swelling, making his pulse quicken and his throat tighten.He had no previous experience to compare it to, but he thought he must be experiencing the thing he’d secretly longed for, the thing he thought he could never feel for another human being—

—attraction.

And if he didn’t act now, he’d lose this moment forever.

He leaned in, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips against Scout’s.Almost immediately, he felt a hot, wet tongue dart into his mouth— _that escalated quickly_ , he thought—lashing against his inner cheek, his teeth—

—the back of his tongue—

—the back of his _throat—_

Sniper pulled away, eliciting a loud squelching noise as their lips detached.(It reminded him of the sound a new jar of jam makes when you first stick a butter knife into it.)

“What was that?” Sniper said, through a mouthful of spit that was not his own.

“I thought we were havin a moment!” Scout said, tossing his hands exasperatedly.

“We were!” Sniper said.He wiped a smear of saliva from the corner of his mouth.“But I didn’t—“

He paused.To his horror, he discovered a foreign body lodged between his cheek and his bottom-left molars.Something…cherry-flavored.

He spat the offending object into his palm, stared at it, and had absolutely no idea what to say or do next.None of Scout’s socialization training could’ve prepared him for this.

“Oh shit,” Scout gasped, grimacing.He snatched the wad of cherry chewing gum from Sniper’s hand and tossed it at one of the many ten-gallon buckets littered about the garage.He missed, but Sniper didn’t really care about that at this point.

“Wow,” Scout said, his grimace growing more severe.“That is embarrassing.”He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“Yes it is,” Sniper agreed.

“Here I am, trying to teach you how to handle awkward situations and stuff,” Scout said, “and I—“ 

He took one of his hands from his pockets, flailing it into the air.“—Stick my tongue down ya throat and nearly gag you to death with my gum.”A lock of dishwater-blonde hair fell over his right eye.He pushed it back angrily, raking a hand through his hair.

“It was just the”—Sniper held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart—“ _tiniest_ bit aggressive.”

“I know,” Scout said, rolling his eyes.“I get too excited.”With a shake of his head, he murmured, “Every freakin time.”

Sniper’s mind flickered back to something he and Scout had talked about a few weeks ago, something about quickly defusing an awkward situation.If you could do it properly, the entire mood of the encounter improved.Do it badly, and made the situation exponentially more awkward.

It was a risk Sniper was willing to take.He would attempt… _light humor_.

He took a breath.

“So,” he said, making a point to keep his voice light, conversational.“Guess this means you’re not good at _everything,_ then.”He didn’t even have to force a smile.He was smiling already.

“Definitely not,” Scout agreed with a nod.“See, I got a lotta room for improvement, too.Learn sum’n new every day.”

“Like…you shouldn’t put your _gum_ in someone else’s mouth.”

“It was an accident!” Scout said, his face turning red.“You think I woulda done that on purpose?!”

“Well—“

“Never mind, don’t answer that,” Scout interjected.“I’m kind of a weirdo, I know that. Probably _would_ do sum’n like that on purpose, let’s just be honest here.”

After a beat of silence, Scout spoke again.“For real though,” he said, his buck-toothed grin returning, “ _great_ job making this whole conversation less horrible.You used light humor like a taught ya.”

“Thanks,” Sniper said, actually feeling a bit of pride at that comment.

“You get an A-plus, definitely.”

“I’d have to give you a solid B-minus, sorry,” Sniper said, frowning in feigned disappointment.

Scout raised his brows and nodded.“That’s very fair.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yep.”

There was another stretch of silence between them.The wood in the stove crackled and popped.Somewhere in the depths of the garage, a table saw buzzed—Engineer working on something-or-other, most likely. 

And in that stretch of silence, Sniper thought of what he needed to say.If he wanted to break out of his comfort zone, if he made an effort to pursue the things he wanted…really, what was the worst thing that could happen?

“But,” he said, the single word cutting through the quiet.“Other than the, er, weird tongue part, I…” he shrugged.“It was nice, I liked it.”

Upon hearing that, Scout eased his way back into Sniper’s bubble of personal space.“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said, placing his hands atop Sniper’s shoulders.

“I know,” Sniper smirked.“You’re the one who taught me that.”

And this time when they kissed, Scout was careful to keep his tongue where it belonged.

For the most part.

**Author's Note:**

> Yall I'm SO HAPPY i finally finished a fic. It's a short one, but it's done babey!!
> 
> Like I mentioned in the tags, this fic is really self-indulgent. I got all my favorite things in here: awkward Sniper, confident Scout, mentions of "dishwater-blonde" hair (more than once!!), cheesy dialogue, dry humor, awkward situations, gratuitous use of adverbs, a sappy ending...and of course, no cornpony fic would be complete without lots of poorly-concealed grins and buck-toothed smiles and the corners of mouths twitching in amusement. All the good stuff.
> 
> This story had a part in it where they went to the bar and Scout ordered an alcoholic beverage that mostly consisted of honey mustard sauce. Sniper dared him to order it and Scout can never say no to a dare. It was only vaguely entertaining and took away from the main plot of the story (kinda) so I erased it lmao
> 
> By now I'm sure everybody heard about the buffoonery that's happening over at tumblr so if you want to find me, I'm on twitter at cornpony_ (with the little underscore at the end) Full disclosure tho I have no clue how to work twitter bc I'm an old fuck™ but if tumblr turns to garbage, that's where you can find me


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